


Waiting all night (for you to tell me what you want, tell me that you need me)

by GlassTiara



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I'm terrible at tagging, If You Squint - Freeform, Isaac is basically a puppy, Mentioned past Lydia/Jackson, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-22 06:03:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassTiara/pseuds/GlassTiara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia's tutoring services weren't actually necessary.</p><p>“This,” she interrupts, gesturing to the books and him and then back again, her face lighting up with amusement, “was meant to be a date?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at writing smutty fanfiction, well any fanfiction actually. Also unbeta'd so please forgive any spelling or grammatical errors.
> 
> Title comes from the song by Rudimental, which I listened to practically on repeat while writing this.

Lydia rolls her eyes, after explaining quadratic equations and discriminants for what seems like the tenth time, she decides that Isaac is no longer paying attention. She was a little taken aback when Isaac approached her during lunch to ask for help with algebra, after all she could count their previous interactions on one hand. At a push they could be considered friends of some sort, what with their mutual friends overlapping substantially. Feeling charitable Lydia agrees to tutor him after school.

So she finds herself sitting crossed legged on Isaac’s bed, leaning against the headboard because his bedroom in Derek’s loft lacked a desk, a chair or pretty much any furniture other than the distressed looking bed frame. Isaac is slumped at the foot of the bed with textbooks and notes in her elegant script strewn between them. He's staring absent-mindedly at a spot on his wall several feet above his lacrosse stick, clearly not taking in her lecture on factorising. 

Lydia snaps her fingers impatiently, prising Isaac from his daydream. 

“You asked me to help you, the least you can do is find enough common courtesy to listen to me,” she seethes with annoyance. “It’s no wonder you’re failing algebra if you can’t concentrate longer than a few minutes.”

“I’m not,” he replies smirking and pushing himself up on his forearms so he’s sitting up opposite the redhead, "actually failing algebra."

“If you’re not failing, then you’re going to explain to me why I’m wasting my time tutoring you,” she demands, slamming the book nearest to her closed and glaring icily at him.

“I didn’t know how else to ask you,” he says, running a hand through his hair and glancing down at his grey sheets.

“Ask me what?” she questions bitterly, drumming her fingers on the hardback cover in front of her. 

“I didn’t know how to ask you out,” he admits softly, still averting her piercing gaze. “I’ve only ever asked one girl out before and that didn't go so well.” 

“This,” she interrupts, gesturing to the books and him and then back again, her face lighting up with amusement, “was meant to be a date?”

Lydia watches as Isaac shrugs his broad shoulders, there’s something to be said for lacrosse players after all. He remains silent, but lifts his head to look at her again, embarrassment evident in his eyes. She finds that he has unnerving blue eyes and the bone structure of a god; she hasn't noticed that before. 

She realises that she’s never really noticed Isaac before, not properly. It’s obvious that getting the bite changed him. He has that rugged, leather-jacket-wearing, bad boy image down to a T, but still manages to look like a supermodel who just walked off of a photo shoot. Lydia was wondering who had been stupid enough to turn down a date with this quasi model/demi-god, when it occurs to her that neither of them are speaking, and she’s essentially sitting there checking him out. While she's more than more than happy to unabashedly let her eyes roam over Isaac, he seems uncomfortable under her scrutiny.

“How about you ask me out properly, and then I’ll see what can be done about it,” she asks, biting her lip in contemplation, deciding that Isaac definitely has potential.

“Lydia,” he begins nervously, "I know that tricking you into spending time with me wasn't the right way of going about this, but would you like to go on a real date with me on Friday? There'll be dinner, a movie, flowers, candles whatever you want."

“Definitely,” she answers with a mischievous look in her eyes, “but first there’s something I want to try.” 

Lydia uncrosses her legs, moving quickly so that she’s knelt on the bed, a startled look flashes quickly over Isaac’s face. Leaning forward she cups her hands around his strong jaw, and inches closer. Her emerald eyes seeking out his, making sure her intentions are welcome. Her tongue darts out instinctively to wet her plump lips, and she continues looking into his eyes, close enough now to see his pupils dilate. 

She moves her head slowly, focusing on his lips now, moving closer and closer until they touch. It’s a tender kiss; innocent and chaste. Then she pulls away looking into his eyes, while quirking an eyebrow, willing him to do something. 

She doesn’t have to wait long for Isaac to react, one arm snaking around her waist and the other cradling the back of her head, as he brings their lips back together with more pressure. Lydia entangles a hand in his curls, running a hand through his soft hair and giving her enough leverage to tilt his head back, then she’s parting his lips and dominating his mouth with her tongue. Isaac’s hands trail down her body, stopping at the backs of her thighs so he can pull her onto his lap, her legs settling either side of his.

His mouth eventually tears away from hers and travels down hungrily, devouring the milky flesh of her throat. Lydia moans her encouragement. When he finds her pulse point and nips gently, she arches her back, giving him better access to her neck and giving herself over to his blissful ministrations. 

Despite the attention he is lavishing on her neck, and she knows Isaac is leaving marks; his hands are staying on her waist and strictly above clothing. Remedying the situation Lydia grinds her hips down onto his, revelling in the low growl he can’t suppress. He rocks up into her, and she’s thrilled to feel him hardening beneath her. Yes, Isaac Lahey definitely has potential.

With one hand finally leaving her waist Isaac sweeps their books and notes off the bed, sending them cluttering noisily to the floor where they join the jacket and heels that Lydia discarded earlier in a bid to get comfortable. He lowers her onto her back and settles himself with one leg between hers. 

Isaac kisses her again, his tongue sliding against hers as his hands work their way under her shirt, gliding up over her ribs until he is cupping her through her bra.

“Is this okay?” he asks, unable to stop his voice taking on a husky tone.

“Isaac,” she says breathlessly, “if you don’t carry on, I swear to god I’ll tear you apart with my hands and feed the pieces to Prada.” 

Isaac’s hands slip back down her stomach, and they’re cool against her skin, one hand pressing into her stomach as the other grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it up. She can feel his gaze on her breasts, barely-contained in a low-cut teal bra with black trim. She arches her hips up and against him and Isaac groans, low and rough, one hand dipping into her hair to pull her mouth back to him. The other hand pushes under her, around her as he pulls her up, crushing her chest to his. He unhooks her bra, exposing her nipples to the bite of cold air. 

Abandoning her mouth, he swipes his tongue experimentally over her nipples, pulling one into his mouth and sucking it to a peak. Lydia mewls in content. 

“I’m curious,” she murmurs, leaning up to whisper in his ear, “earlier you said that you’d only ever asked out one girl.” For added effect she runs her tongue along the shell of his ear, pulling his earlobe between her teeth and is rewarded with another frantic buck of his hips. “Who was she?”

“You really don’t remember freshman year?” he looks resigned when he says that.

“I don’t remember, I'm sorry," she says softly, shaking her head. “At least I can make it up to you now.” She wraps her legs tightly around his waist and rolls them over, biting at the hollow of Isaac’s neck. 

She kisses him slowly while quickly coming to the decision that it’s only fair to divest him of his t-shirt; she tugs at the hem and pulls lazily, admiring every inch of flesh that she exposes. His chest is toned from hours of lacrosse and then there’s the inviting trail of hair disappearing into his jeans which is begging to be licked. She presses hot open-mouthed kisses down his torso, while her hands work their way between them to unfasten his belt and jeans. She works his boxers and jeans to his knees, where Isaac helpfully wriggles out of them and kicks them off the foot of the bed.

Now lying between Isaac’s sprawled legs, she’s holding herself above him with one hand and uses the other to push her strawberry-blonde hair from her face. She reaches down, his erection hardening in her hand and quizicly arches a perfectly-plucked eyebrow at him, before reaching out her tongue to lick the tip. He’s bigger than she’s used to and she idly questions how much she’ll have to change her technique.

She grips the base more firmly; wrapping her fingers around him again, and licks her lips. Lydia lowers her head, her longs curls framing her face as she pulls the tip into her mouth and swirls her tongue, sucking until her cheeks hollow around him. She watches the sheet bundle up by Isaac’s hip, his fingers curled in a fist. Feeling empowered she takes the length of him into her mouth. She concentrates on the feel of him, impossibly hard under the strokes of her tongue and knocking against the back of her throat. Isaac tastes of sweat and something sweeter than Jackson ever did.

Lydia isn't sure if he lets out a hard breath or the beginning of her name but she pulls him out of her mouth with a satisfying pop. Eyeing the vein that runs along the underside she tilts her head, licking from her thumb at his base to his tip. He grunts when she reaches the skin between the head and the shaft, so she licks it again. His fingers untangle from the sheet, reaching out towards her and it reminds her of a cat, stretching out its claws. She supposes that a wolf would be more appropriate.

Taking a breath, she pumps him with her hand. She eyes his testicles critically, reaching forward with her free hand, cradling them in her palm. She pulls them down gently, smirking as he groans in pleasure. She pulls back up to look up at him, and leans over to the inside of his thigh. She kisses his skin, nipping it hard then laving the bite with her tongue, before returning her mouth to him. He moans loudly, and she can’t help but bask in the feeling of complete control. She lowers her head, taking in more of him, and pressing her tongue up against him.

"Is this okay Isaac?” she withdraws practically laughing and draws out the syllables in his name, while he groans.

"It’s beyond okay," he says his voice rough, thankful that her mouth is back where he wants it.

He lifts her hair, gathering it with both of his hands and piling it on top of her head until he can manage to hold it with only one. The other hand slides down the side of her face, over her indented cheek, before resting the nape of her neck. For a second she thinks he might try to push her down more, to put more of himself inside her mouth, and she knows she'll gag if he does but his hand stays still, just entwined in her hair.

She tugs with one hand, pumping with the other, and bobs her head, exploring the texture and ridges with her tongue. He moans and flexes his hips, causing her to gag a little, and she sucks harder, moving faster.

"Lydia," he pants and grunts her name, bringing her eyes back to his.

His neck is flushed; lips parted and wet, his eyes bright and trained on her. She grins knowing that she has done this to him. She pays attention to the noises he makes and loves the approving noise he makes deep in his throat and the whole array of aroused sounds he can't help but let fall from his lips. His hips are moving in shallow thrusts now, his breath coming fast, and he's practically writhing on the bed. 

He tugs on her arm and pulls her hair gently, making her stop all movement. "I'm going to come," his voice is husky and coarse, and she wants to say something just to keep him talking. 

She pulls her head up, moving her jaw from side to side once he's out of her mouth. "I believe that's the point of this exercise."

He groans when she lowers her mouth on him again and so she sucks hard, stroking fiercely with her tongue and matching the jerking of her hand to the speed of her bobbing. She ignores her tired jaw and starts humming when he begins thrusting again, feeling him pulse against her tongue, his fingers clenching hard into her arm and scalp.

He pushes himself to the back of her throat, his body arching off the bed with a loud moan. She continues to suck until his hips collapse back onto the bed, his cum salty on her taste buds. She only starts to pull her mouth away when his hand relaxes the grip on her hair.

She releases him from her mouth and quickly raises a hand, trying to prevent anything from spilling out. She catches a little against her fingers, swallowing the rest. She licks her fingers clean and the piercing look he gives her in return makes her blood boil.

Isaac lets go of her arm to wrap his own around her waist, hauling her up and against him. He kisses her then, tongue sliding into her mouth, obviously not caring about the taste. She doesn't know how long they lay like that, just kissing and touching, one of Lydia’s legs hitched over his hip until Isaac reluctantly pulls away. 

“Derek’s back,” he says quietly.

Lydia bolts off the bed, smoothing her skirt down and fixing her mussed hair with her fingers. She recovers the rest of her clothes hurriedly, buttoning her shirt and forgoing her bra to save time, which she shoves into her purse. She stops rushing as she slips back into her heels, leaning down to fasten the little straps around her ankles. As she straightens up, she looks down at Isaac still sprawled naked across the bed and a smile plays across her pretty features as she tosses him his jeans.

“Friday. Pick me up at eight and I believe you owe me an orgasm,” she says frivolously, as though she was talking about dinner and not sex, smiling at Isaac’s shocked expression.

“Friday,” he replies, barely containing a laugh, “I’ll bring the orgasms.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I meant to write this awhile ago, because I had a few people ask me if I would ever write more for the fic. I just got a bit carried away with other ideas and then I was swamped with my new job.
> 
> Anyway, Isaac brings the long-awaited orgasms, yay! Also posted on my [Tumblr](http://lydiapout.tumblr.com/post/61248230894/waiting-all-night-part-2-isaac-lydia-teen-wolf) as usual.

Sat at her vanity table Lydia sweeps another coat of Coral Bliss across her lips; the latest shade of lipstick carefully chosen as it enhances the green hue of her eyes and contrasts perfectly with her alabaster skin. She pouts at her reflection out of habit, making sure that the colour is evenly spread and contained by her expertly applied lip-liner. 

Running her fingers through her loosely curled red tresses, she scrutinises her outfit. The low necked floral dress now seems more slam-me-against-a-wall-and-ravish-me than innocent-small-town-prom-queen as it had done so when she tried it on at Macy’s. The neckline is cut so low; she has no choice but to forgo a bra. Previous experiences show that lingerie never stays on very long during a second date, so she doesn’t deem it that much of a problem.  

Lydia supposes she could always change, but the low rumble of a car pulling onto the driveway quickly ends that train of though. She had nearly doubted that Isaac was going to show up this evening, because he had been a nervous wreck since their tutoring session/demi-date a few days ago. But Lydia was absolutely confident of two things. One was that her sheer intelligence could outperform anyone else in school. The other was that there wasn’t a hot-blooded male teenager who would turn down her offer of a date. Judging by Isaac’s sudden acquisition of a car, her self-assurance hadn’t been misplaced.

Still Isaac had avoided eye contact like it was physically painful and his cheeks were tinted pink during any classes they had together. Her fondest memory though had been when he walked into their shared chemistry class. Lydia had been feeling particularly devious and held onto his gaze as she swirled her tongue purposefully around the capped end of her pen, Isaac had promptly walked into a desk, apologised profusely to it and then bowed his head to the floor for the rest of the lesson.

She smirks at the memory as she sweeps up her purse from the end of her bed and makes her way downstairs. Lydia opens the front door, surprised to see Isaac leaning against a flashy black car she knows isn't his. He certainly made an effort to impress her so she generously adds a little extra sway to her hips, smiling internally as his gaze doesn’t falter once as she sashays towards him.

“Nice car Lahey,” she tells him as he holds the door open for her and she relaxes into the soft buttery leather.

“Derek’s,” he answers gruffly, closing the door a little harder than he necessary before he makes his way round the car. “I made dinner reservations,” he says a little apprehensively from the drivers’ seat, his eyes trying to seek out her approval.

“Cancel them. I’ve already eaten,” Lydia replies flippantly, pulling down the visor to glance in the mirror and dab non-chalently at corner of her lips with her index finger.

“I thought this was a date?” he asks.

“It is. I gave you a phenomenal blow job, I expect more than dinner,” she remarks as she turns back towards him, shutting the visor abruptly. “I thought I’d made that point clear.”

“What did you have in mind then?” he questions quietly and you didn’t need to turn into a wolf once a month to sense the pain in his voice, so she decides it’s time to ease up on the attitude.

“Take me for a drive Isaac,” she says softly with a smile playing around her parted lips.

Isaac drives mostly in silence, but it’s surprisingly comfortable. He doesn’t seem to be a fan of lengthy conversations and Lydia despises mindless small talk. She doesn’t stop her eyes wandering over to him; searching for the hardened muscles she knows are hiding beneath his clothes, taking in the way his broad shoulders stretch his sweater and the ripple of his biceps as he grips the steering wheel a little too tightly. Lydia catches him sneaking glances at her at every opportunity too, his gaze frequently falling south of her collarbone or to the hem of her dress which is pushed up around the top of her thighs.

Isaac makes a sharp right turn, onto a small dirt track just off the main road to Beacon Hills Preserve, stopping at a lookout point. Lydia doesn’t know if it’s one of the more popular spots or not but the town is stretched out below them, lights twinkling in the distance like fireflies and she’s never seen Beacon Hills look so beautiful. Jackson would never have bought her out here. He wouldn’t dare drive the Porsche anywhere there was a possibility of his paint job getting scratched. She swats the thoughts about Jackson out of her mind and refocuses on Isaac.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it,” she murmurs. “Makes me wonder when life got so complicated, werewolves and overgrown lizards running around all over the place.”

“Lydia, is this really the conversation you want to have now?"

“You're right and most importantly I believe you still owe me an orgasm,” she softens her voice, watching Isaac’s eyes darken in response and his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Lydia doesn’t give him a chance to answer as she pushes him back through the space in between the front seats and into the seat behind them. He lands with his legs splayed enticingly in front of her. Isaac lets her push at him and Lydia smiles in return as she climbs through after him, hitching the skirt of her dress up around her waist as she goes. She settles her legs over his lap, straddling him, still pushed up on her knees for leverage as she leans down to kiss him. Isaac wraps a hand in her hair and pulls her against him. Their mouths crash together and she smiles against his teeth as she grabs at his bottom lip with hers, sliding their tongues over each other in a desperate plea.

Lydia reaches for his one of his wrists, pushing his sleeve up to bare his forearm and she pulls it towards her. Isaac is studying her with a curious expression, until she pushes his hand into the band of her underwear and smiles coyly. She sucks in a breath as his finger skims her  _there,_  pushing deeper until he hits a spot that makes her hips buck against him. Isaac swirls the pad of his thumb around and around, making her clutch his sweater at the shoulders and thrust her hips every time he swipes across her clit.

“More,” she moans, and grinds down onto his hand when he slips a second finger inside. Lydia braces herself on the headrests of the front seats behind her, arms spread open and chest heaving with every thrust of his hand into her. She is fucking his hand now, in a wanton way that would likely embarrass most girls.

"I’m going to make you come so hard Lydia.  _So _fucking hard,__ " Isaac whispers harshly as his fingers speed up.

She shifts her legs into a more comfortable position, grazing his erection in the process and making him groan. Isaac leans forward nipping at her as his fingers continue their ministrations and then he is breathing hot and hard against the hollow of her neck. His thumb brushing her clit over and over, his fingers curving and making her cry out as they hit that sweet spot. The pressure is hard and tight against her skin, a throbbing sensation at her core. There is a breath, a gasp of air that burns her lungs and then her hips jerk violently into him before she falls apart.  

Her body is tingling, her mind reeling as she pants for air, only dimly aware of her surroundings until Isaac works his way back into her state of awareness. He’s fighting for breath as well, probably finding it humid with his face pressed so closely against her neck and the cramped space inside the car. His fingers are still buried inside of her, his hair sticking to the side of her face.  Lydia’s arms are weak when she wraps them around him, and it takes him a few seconds before he slowly removes his fingers from her.

Isaac pulls away from her neck to lean back against the seats, laughing with his face crinkling as the sound reverberates around the car and Lydia glances down at him puzzled.

“This is what it’s meant to be like isn’t it? Being a teenager and fooling around in the backseats of cars.”

She nods in response, not sure that she actually could voice a reply. Firstly because she’s still coming down from a toe-curling orgasm and secondly, neither of them have had many opportunities to  _just_ be a teenager. Isaac seems placated enough by her non-response though, burying his face against her neck once again and enthusiastically placing kisses there, his tongue darting out occasionally to lick her pulse point.

“Do you have a condom?” he murmurs against her skin, “I didn’t want to seem presumptuous.” Lydia nods in return, reaching for her purse that is lying abandoned in the front of the car and Isaac spreads a hand over the small of her back to steady her.

“What does that make me then?” Lydia asks as she turns back to him, holding up the found condom. She raises herself off him so that she can grab at his belt, trying to undo the clasp and shimmy out of her underwear.

“My new favourite person,” Isaac tells her, lifting his hips as far as he can and hooking his thumbs in the sides of his jeans so that he can slide them down past his waist, pulling his boxers with them. He’s already hard, silk over steel and he had been pressing against his zipper the whole time.

“I wasn’t already your favourite?” Lydia feigns disbelief and she quickly tears open the foil with her teeth, pinching the tip and rolling the condom on.

“Always my favourite,” he murmurs, pushing the straps of her dress down to her elbows and latching his mouth onto her collarbone, sucking hard. “ _Always my favourite_.” Isaac repeats himself as he gently slips her wrists out the straps of her dress, tugging it down and exposing her breasts while the dress pools around her hips.

Not waiting any longer Lydia takes his erection in her hand, relishing in the groan that falls from his lips. She positions him where she wants him, sinking down the second his hands meet her ribs. They both moan and Lydia looks up towards the ceiling of the car, thanking God – which seems completely inappropriate given the circumstances. Isaac’s forehead hits her shoulder and his arms wrap around her, hissing obscenities into her skin as she starts to move. Lydia sets the pace because Isaac can’t thrust up far in the backseat of the Camaro, though his shallow thrusts are determined.

She experiments and she switches angles and speed until she has found all the ones he likes and ones she likes as well. Lydia arches her back, grinding into him and palms pressing flat to the ceiling of the car. She begins moving faster, rolling her hips in circles, again and again.

"Yes, Lydia," he breathes. "Yes, just like that."

She loves this, being above him. Lydia has always loved being the one in the position of power and control. He must be able to see it by the look on her face because he grins, raising his hips and she sinks down onto him again.

She lowers her hands, entwining one set of fingers with the ones on her hip, and she doesn’t care if it seems too personal. He doesn’t either, his other hand sliding up her stomach and to her breasts, her fingers clutching the edge of the seat so hard they almost hurt. She concentrates on the feeling of Isaac inside of her, filling her and stretching her deliciously.

"Isaac," she whispers, moans, and lets her head drop forward onto his shoulder, red hair tumbling around her face.

She lifts her head to look at him and he hunches forward, kissing her awkward-positioned and wonderful. Lydia falls apart again with a choked moan against his ear, nails burrowing deep into his shoulders as she clenches around his cock. Isaac grunts as he thrusts upwards into her, hands digging into the soft flesh of her hips as he comes with a groan, his hips slowing down while he softens inside of her.

Lydia is breathing hard against his shoulder and Isaac is peppering light kisses on her forehead, they sit like that for a minute before she complains about her back cramping. With a movement far more graceful than one should be able to manage, Lydia moves off his lap, readjusting her dress. She’s already moved on to rolling down the back window, desperate to feel fresh air against her flushed skin, as Isaac is tucking himself back into his jeans.

“Can we stay for a little while?” Lydia asks, not wanting to leave his company for an empty house.

“Of course,” Isaac replies lying down and pulling her with him, his feet reach the floor and he curls around her in a position that shouldn't be comfortable. He has one arm wrapped around her waist holding her against him and is other absent-mindedly tracing circles on her bare shoulder with his other hand.

“You’re going to ask me out again Isaac,” she says matter of factly, as he feathers little kisses against her shoulder and neck, “and you’re borrowing this car again on Monday, I want a ride to school.”

Isaac murmurs an agreement, grinning as she rolls over to face him and slants her lips over his again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on my Tumblr http://lydiapout.tumblr.com/ where I'll probably be posting more drabbles.


End file.
